


Some kind of ‘Christmas Carol’

by gently69



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Friendship/Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 22:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17272052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gently69/pseuds/gently69
Summary: A little story set during pre-Christmas period about Sherlock and John dealing with a case including toys and... ghosts???





	Some kind of ‘Christmas Carol’

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nakahara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakahara/gifts).



“Jesus! “ John stumbled two steps backwards and hit a shelf behind him. Toy robots fell rattling down to the floor, together with the torch he had held in his hand. 

“John, are you ok?” Sherlock stepped out of the dark. He pointed his torch at his companion and John raised his hand. “Would you ‘please’ stop blinding me?” he snapped. Sherlock lowered the torch. „Why did you jump backwards into a shelf? “ he asked.

John swore silently, picked up his own torch and pointed it at something in front of him. A plastic figure nearly 6 feet tall with a white beard and red clothes appeared in the torchlight. “I had a crash with that guy. Didn’t see him because ‘of course’ we have to roam around in the dark.” John mumbled angrily.

The consulting detective grinned at his friend. “Still afraid of Santa Claus?” Then he headed for the next aisle past shelves and tables full of everything that children love.

John shortly thought about picking up the robots and putting them back but then followed Sherlock. As he caught up he asked, “Sherlock, what the hell are we doing here?” “Hunting ghosts.” Sherlock replied, pointing his torch at soft toys and baby dolls while passing them.

“At the toys department of Harrods?” John grabbed Sherlock’s shoulder to stop him and turn him around. “You’re not serious.”

Sherlock just raised an eyebrow. “You’re not serious… are you?” John repeated. 

“It’s a lucrative job. You are always telling me we need money. And it is the most challenging case we got for weeks.”

“You don’t believe in ghosts.” John said and followed Sherlock, who had turned and gone on again. When the consulting detective suddenly stopped in front of a shelf John nearly bumped into him. “A teddy bear with a deerstalker? Named after me? Seriously, do children play with… that?” Sherlock asked amused.

“Sherlock, what’s that supposed to mean: hunting ghosts?”

“Hunting ghosts means that we are hunting ghosts. The management contacted me, speaking of inexplicable phenomena. That’s worth a look, isn’t it?”

“Inexplicable phenomena.”

“Yes. Things like toys falling from tables and shelves apparently without external cause. ” Sherlock smiled. 

“So no one banging into it.” John said with a snort. 

Sherlock added “And it also happens during opening hours, not only during the night. Children are frightened and start to avoid this department. Bad for business especially shortly before Christmas. The employees assured me that it wasn’t them playing practical jokes. I have already questioned them quite insistently.”

John’s memory went back to the House Mistress of the boarding school where the children of the U.S. ambassador had been kidnapped some years ago. He wondered which poor woman had had to breathe into a bag this time.

“But why do we have to do the hunting in the middle of the night, in the dark, when those things are also happening during the day?”

“It’s quite necessary, John, to get a complete picture. Children are so annoying. And ghosts are creatures of the darkness, after all. If you want to spot them…” Sherlock winked and continued his tour. 

“So what are we looking for? Clues that these phenomena are man-made?”

“Of course these phenomena are man-made. There are no ghosts. I already suspect someone; I just need proof. As for how - I suppose we will find some kind of technical device that is vibrating the shelves. It has to be very small. I didn’t… “Sherlock jerked to a stop and raised his hand. “Shush! Do you hear that?”

A buzzing noise reached them from the other side of the room.

“What’s that?” John whispered.

“Remote-controlled toy cars.” Sherlock answered. “I saw them near the entrance.”  
He slowly headed towards the noise; his torch turned off and lifted like a weapon ready to be whacked over someone’s head.

John did the same. They now depended on the lights leading to the emergency exits. 

And other noises joined the buzzing. The squeaky barking of a soft toy dog, sirens of toy cars, sounds of different musical boxes and a tic-tac from whatever. “It’s getting loud.” John stated. “Seems to be a poltergeist.” He smirked. 

One of the toy cars crossed their way and drove against a table leg which stopped it with spinning wheels. 

“That’s silly.” John said. “It certainly is just a prank. Perhaps this time your practice of questioning was weak at some point? Oi!”

Sherlock suddenly rushed forward. “It’s him!” he shouted. 

“Who?” John hurried to follow him, leaving a trace of Paddington bears as he once again bumped into a shelf. 

As John reached his friend he already restrained someone on the floor. John joined Sherlock holding the man who surprisingly wore a security guard uniform.

“So you are the guard I couldn’t talk to before because you are on holiday.” Sherlock said, breathing heavily. 

The man swore and tried to free himself but Sherlock held him down with an arm lock, kneeing on his back. John wondered again where Sherlock learned that hold.  
“She is your girlfriend, isn’t she? Lindsey Reid, the woman who was fired last month. And now you want to damage the firm… for revenge. Good plan to disturb Christmas business and blame the boss for it, because he is responsible for the sales figures.”  
Sherlock’s deductions came once more quick as a shot. John admired him for his skills but tried not to show it. To be honest John loved much more about his friend than just those skills but tried not to show it.

“Her boss is a silly boy,” the guard hissed, giving up his resistance. “Do you know why Lindsey was really fired? Because she stood up to him when he molested her. And Lindsey wasn’t his first victim. He thinks of himself as irresistible. No woman working for him was safe. But if they refused to do as he wanted he made their life hell. First he accused Lindsey of not working properly, breaking toys and things like that, and then he told colleagues lies about her. And at the end he told the directors that he suspected her of stealing money. Yes, Lindsey is suffering from it. And she hasn’t been able to get a new job so far, because he spread bad rumours about her in retail circles. But hey, I’m sure I can join her now in being unemployed.” His last sentence sounded sarcastic.

John nudged Sherlock to make him ease his hold on the guard.

“We will investigate your story.” John stated and received a confused look from Sherlock.  
“We will?” the consulting detective asked.

John continued talking to the guard. “And if it is like you said we’ll get that louse, and we will make sure that Harrods takes appropriate measures against him. So I would say, clean that mess, remove your ‘ghost devices’ and go back to work.”

The man just nodded guiltily, went to the remote controlled toys and started stopping them.

Sherlock grabbed John’s arm and pulled him closer.  
“What do you mean we will investigate that? I just solved the case and found the culprit. We will…”

John interrupted his friend.  
“Listen Sherlock, the problem is that louse who can’t keep his hands off the women working for him, not this chap in love playing ghost. If we don’t stop that jerk it will damage Harrods more than the ‘ghost’ in the long term, don’t you think?”

Sherlock still looked confused but then he admitted, “Well, I’m sure you are more suited for… sentimental decisions. I already have some ideas how we can solve that problem. But in the end I proved there is no ghost.”  
Sherlock headed to the exit.

John smiled. “I will get one of those Sherlock bears,” he whispered to himself, “to allay your disappointment, Sherlock, that there aren’t any ghosts.”

He turned around to go back and… “Jesus!”

A line of Sherlock bears hovered in front of him.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote that tiny piece for the Secret Santa Fic Exchange 2018 at the BBC Sherlock Fan Forum. I hope you enjoy it.


End file.
